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20090101

I Bet Our New Years Day Was Moar Awesorme Than Yours - Council Bluff and Dos Primos!

Greetings Loyal Team Seagal Fan! When all else fails, improvise. Right? Right. So when other New Years Ride plans that had possible grand production value fell through, we at Team Seagal HQ were quick to act, and organize a trip to our old trustworthy friend, Council Bluff. (NOT Council Bluffs!) This trail nevar lets us down, even though some of us have been known to be let down on that trail due to many various reasons, i.e. broken frame, blown shock seals, cranks falling off, 8 flat tires in one ride, lost chainring bolts, and countless snapped t'aints. Today's stats were much more promising:

It was an eclectic mix today. Nico on his recently-completed project, a 2006 Kona Unit with 650B wheels, which made for a nice segue when looking at Shop Gnome's 26" wheel and then panning your vision over to Gino's 29" wheel: In addition to Nico, we had Shop Gnome, Mason Storm, an appearance by Mason's brother Forrest Taft, Gino Felino, and then myself - Casey Ryback. Thank Energor.

Speaking of Shop Gnome, today's ride marked his glorious return to the dirt where he belongs. As you might recall, our hero had an unfortunate encounter with the ground (or moar specifically, his collarbone did) which left him off of two wheels for a long time, and left him without moar than a handful of rides on his 1st mountain bike frame that he fucking built himself! The first ride with his race-ready spec - truly a proper dirt-baptism: The part of the story that you don't hear though is how even though he broke his collarbone, the piece of ground that was impacted by said collarbone is now a huge crater. See for yourself: link

The way down was nearly as interesting as the ride itself, what with Nico finding treasure in the Shell Station bathroom stall:

Having made our way onto 21, we soon found that future trips to Council Bluff will be a few minutes quicker now that 21 is 4 lanes all the way to Rt. B (another 8 miles) AND that it is quicker to take 21 straight to C instead of jogging over in Potosi to Hwy. P and then taking THAT to C.

Whatever. Anyway, the excitement of this new-found route, coupled with Mason and I discussing in depth the finer points of gruesome execution videos and serial killers, proved to be a little too much for young Forrest Taft - he managed to have immensely powerful projectile vomit out of my moving car's window as we were making the turn to Hwy DD. Upon stopping the car, we found that none of the vomit had actually touched my car! It is because of this the he'll never again have raspberry-flavored energy bars chased with a Kit Kat. Unfortunately, no photos were recovered, though the Gino/Nico/Gnome car following behind had front-row seats.

Arriving at the trailhead, we proceeded to be confronted with a stiff wind coming off of the lake, which caused us to dress a little warmer than we might have needed. No matter, because the Strudel of Hate that we were baking was ready to be unleashed in a furious assault of death and destruction that would be completely encircling the lake. No one would be spared, not even this "BOD" (Beagle of Death) that we randomly encountered on the trail, and then proceeded to latch itself onto our pain-train:

Here, we had to take a small break to re-calibrate our Fists of Pain:

The Pain Train stopped just past the dam in order to hone its skills on a rock lift:

The trail was in slightly rough shape, with a some deadfall and deep leaf-pits, and maybe 2 trees for which to dismount. But it was all completely badass and a little on the crunchy side. If anything, it was actually pretty grippy, but not that fast. By the way, did I mention that we rode it the Rim Wrecker course, with a reverse Burnin' detour? That's right, we went up to the campgrounds and then DOWN the massive soul-crusher hill, which was a lot of fun. Would have been moar fun had we not had to dodge disgusting horse shit and hoof-marks for the rest of the trail. Fucking horses. Are they allowed on this trail?

From the trail:

The lulz didn't stop with Forrest's involuntary protein spill in the car though. Whilst laying waste to all within the campgrounds, we noticed a relic left over from an earlier battle in October which had taken place upon that very spot:

It wasn't long before our stomachs were on empty. Fortunately, we were nearly back at the vehicles. These vehicles would soon take us to what is collectively, our favorite restaurant - a Team Seagal Council Bluff standard: DOS PRIMOS. The food here is ridiculously delicious, plentiful, and quickly prepared. We have literally NEVER had a bad meal there, and trust me, we have eaten MANY meals there. When you go, which you are now sure to do, order the Dos Primos Dip. Then look at the Tapatio Bottle, and tell me that Nico doesn't look like the dude on the label:

Finally, another question to ponder: why would McDonalds attach a smaller sign to larger sign? Was this an add-on that they decided the original sign needed in order to be more visible, or was this originally erected as a double-sign? What the hell does the small sign do that the big sign doesn't? I mean, did they think that it wasn't recognizable without having the word "McDonald's" on the big sign? If so, there is plenty of space for it! Those questions are inconsequential, however. We think that if they're going to attach smaller signs to larger signs, why not REALLY make this shit stand out?: It only makes sense.

Happy New Year, and you had better fucking be at The Crossocalypse. Expect to a barrage of Nerf arrows, you sonofabitch.

Nobody invited me! But I was busy walky-stacking pallets of prosperity, eyes pealed and prepared, into the steel of a profit-producing retail giant while pukers and procurers of potent palliatives were pounding away parsecs on popular pedaling paths.